


Hope In You

by amyfortuna



Series: Tolkien Femslash Week 2016 [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Puns, F/F, First Kiss, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilraen is persuaded to stay in Rivendell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope In You

**Author's Note:**

> For Tolkien Femslash Week. Card and Prompt are: emotions, I12, hope

"My son is gone where destiny calls him, then," Gilraen said, not raising her eyes from her sewing. 

"He is grieved you were not there to see him off this morning," Elrond said, sitting down beside her on the low bench. Over the low wrought iron railing, the river murmured gently. 

She turned her head for the briefest moment to meet his eyes. "I have said all I would say to him last night. It is not our first parting, nor is it yet our last, I deem. And it is time for me to go back to my people, whether he would have it so or not."

"I must confess I do not understand it myself," Elrond said. "You know you have a home among us for all of your days, if you wish it. Why leave here where you have many friends, where you are safe, where all wish you well? The lands of the Dunedain are neither safe nor secure, these days." 

A blush coloured Gilraen's cheek. "It's not a matter I can speak of to you," she said. "It is a matter of a woman's heart, and though you are gracious and wise, Master Elrond, I fear that you would not understand this, any more than you understand why my son loves your daughter."

Elrond laughed. "Why, that I do understand." He stood up, laying a hand briefly on Gilraen's shoulder. "No one could fail to love my Arwen." He gestured to the door. "See, there she comes. Since it is a matter of a woman's heart that troubles you, my daughter is wise and willing to listen. She will gladly offer you counsel in my stead." 

Gilraen shook her head. "I would not trouble her with my heart's desires," she said. 

"It's no trouble," Arwen said, sitting down just where Elrond had been sitting and taking her own sewing out of its basket. Elrond gave them both a smile and walked off in the direction of the gardens. "Do not feel you must tell me all, but I will gladly lend an ear." 

Gilraen set her sewing down, crossed her hands at the wrist and stared at Arwen for a long moment. Arwen smiled graciously under the woman's regard, and eventually Gilraen seemed to come to a decision, relaxed, sat back, and picked up her sewing again. There was silence for a little while. 

"Tell me," Gilraen said, "do you love my son?" 

Arwen tilted her head, mouth dropping open. "I - he - we," she stammered out, and a blush tinted her cheeks. Then she shook her head, laughing at herself. "You took me by surprise! But in truth, I do not know. My heart could turn toward him, and yet it may not." 

"You know that he loves you, of course," Gilraen said. 

"I think everyone in the entire Valley knows that," Arwen said. "He was not exactly subtle." 

Gilraen smiled. "He thought he was." She shook her head. "My sweet boy, a Man raised among Elves. It's a wonder he has any secrets at all - or that I do. Can you read me with a look, lady?"

Arwen let her sewing fall to her lap and looked over at Gilraen. Her hair was just beginning to turn grey. If someone who could not tell the difference between Men and Elves walked past, Gilraen would have looked the older of the two by just a few years. She was beautiful in the kind of way that comes to mortals with age and experience and sorrow, eyes calm and quiet, mouth quirked into a half-smile, tiny lines running across her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. 

"I see hope in you," Arwen said. 

"You're not making some dreadful pun, are you?" Gilraen said, and that half-smile was now a teasing whole smile, eyes crinkling. 

"No!" Arwen said, laughing. "Although, I also see him in you, beautiful son of a beautiful mother." 

"Well," Gilraen said. "I give hope to you. Whatever hope I have, take it, use it to bolster your own. For it is you who will be the light in the darkness that will come to us one day." She lay the sewing down once more, on the small table in front of them, and moved closer to Arwen, who, sensing some importance in the coming words, set her own sewing aside. "My time is done. I keep no hope for myself." Her voice grew small and sad, and her eyes lingered on Arwen's mouth, and all at once then Arwen understood. 

"You desire...me?" she said, reaching out her hands almost unconsciously and taking Gilraen's hands into hers. 

"Yes," Gilraen breathed, almost too silent for even Elvish hearing to pick up. 

"Oh, brave lady," Arwen answered, her own voice a whisper. "Linger here yet awhile, and may hope remain with you still."

Gilraen blushed fiercely, but managed to pull out a grin from somewhere. "Please tell me you are definitely not making a pun about my son now." 

"No," Arwen said, a smile lighting up her face, "and I shall prove it." 

She bent forward, pulling Gilraen closer, and covered her mouth with her own.


End file.
